


Chalk It Up

by lacepirate



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Daddy kink mention, Gymnastics, M/M, Not Beta Read, Varsity AU, gymnastics AU, minor daddy kink, tags as of chapter 2, varsity gymnastics, varsity gymnastics au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacepirate/pseuds/lacepirate
Summary: Bucky watched the corner of his coach’s mouth upturn. He’d been actively avoiding him until now, and he’s almost glad he did because he’s sure Rogers could beat someone to death with the blue of his eyes.In which Bucky is a varsity gymnast and Steve coaches. Lots and lots of character crossovers and cameos lol(will add tags/characters as it progresses)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay lol don't look at me for being super accurate with rules and regulations of gymnastics, because I never did gymnastics past high school. Just imagine this in its own world and have fun
> 
> edit: i know that move in day for unis are like a week away from the actual classes starting but whatever sue me i just work here man  
> also i'm basing this on my working knowledge of canadian universities, which is where i live so if there's any other weird country inconsistencies, just ignore it

If there’s one thing that Hollywood got right about college, Bucky thinks, is that there really _is always_ some kids playing frisbee in the quad. Varsity athletes be damned, apparently everyone who has ever been on campus needs to play frisbee at least five times in their post-secondary career.

Bucky knows he should have at least printed out a copy of the campus map because this place is a helluva lot bigger than his first year spent at the community college in Brooklyn. The NYU campus was its own city. Hell, it probably had its own independent train system.

And really, he’s only here for convenience. All in all, it’s probably going to be a lot easier to train, eat, sleep, and study in the same place rather than having to take away precious time to commute. The only reason he stayed on home turf for first year was because he didn’t want to leave his Ma and Becca all alone. But, after much debate and heated continual stares from said relatives, he’s agreed to make it easier on everyone and just transfer to a school where he could train _and_ study. And, well, if getting away from his old coach was a bonus, then so be it.

Plus, the tiny community college didn’t offer anything he was remotely interested in as a career path. He definitely wasn’t going to do gymnastics forever. Not only did he have zero desire to coach a group of brats into shape and spend his free time choreographing multitudes of routines for the rest of his life, he was nearing the end of his prime. Bucky’d be surprised if he even made it to fourth year without tearing anything. But, then again, he hoped his new coach(es?) weren’t going to have a notoriety for mentally and physically breaking and abusing athletes like Rumlow did.

Bucky sighed. First thing out of the way was going to have to be the dorms.

He subtly (obviously) dreaded meeting whatever personality was going to be his roommate.

But, he was being optimistic; he was stationed in the varsity dorms, so with any luck, he wouldn’t have someone who was a partier. Bucky didn’t like socializing very much.

 

He didn’t take much with him. Everything he needed furniture-wise was going to be provided, and he didn’t need to cook (not that he could) because his scholarship also covered his meal plan. He would make good use of his student card. Everything Bucky needed was in a black duffle bag, his backpack and his rolling suitcase currently surrounding him.

His Ma and Becca had offered to help him move in, but Ma couldn’t get the time off work, and Becca had her own schooling to go to. It’s not like it’s a big deal anyway, it’s just some bedding and some clothes.

Keys to get into his dorm would probably be helpful though.

Bucky graciously followed the intentionally placed signs showing where the student dorm check-in was pointed.

He was forced with the choice to finally remove his earbuds when he reached the front desk, a multi-coloured blonde head of hair placed behind the counter. She smiled and Bucky could tell she was genuinely excited to be helping him. Well, at least that makes one.

“Uh, hi, I uh, need my keys to my room I guess.”

_As gracious as ever, Bucky._

The blonde lady smiled and sat up straighter, hands perched on her keyboard.

“Yeah! No problem, I’m just gonna need two IDs plus your student ID number.”

“Sure.”

Bucky fumbled for his wallet. He shouldn’t have shoved it into the side of his gym bag, because it always took him 15 minutes to find it and it inevitably ended up smelling like sweaty wrist wraps and chalk.

The lady thanked him as he handed them over with a sheepish smile.

He also showed her the confirmation of enrollment on his phone, because he really couldn’t be bothered to memorize his student number at the moment.

She smiled once more and confirmed his information again and then handed him a key loop with one lone key and the college’s logo with contact information on the back, just in case he (he hoped he wouldn’t) lost them.

Bucky thanked her and just then realized she was wearing a name tag.

“Thank you, uh, Sharon.”

“No problem. Welcome to NYU, James.”

He nodded at her and started for the next building over, suitcases in tow.

He promised his Ma he would get all the other essentials later. Even saved up from coaching enthusiastic little kids through the summer so he could, even if the shrieks hadn’t left his eardrums the same. He’d probably need a printer at some point. If he was lucky, his roommate would have one and he could just dish out some money for shared ink and paper.

He also promised his Ma that he wouldn’t set the dorm on fire trying to make ramen or hot pockets either. He doesn’t know if he’ll keep that one though.

 

Bucky hesitated, staring at the blank whiteboard on the outside of the white painted wooden door. There was a piece of copy paper taped to the concrete just beside the door handle. It read:

_James B. Barnes – Year 2_

_ & _

_Peter B. Parker – Year 1_

 

Peter seemed like a calm enough name. With some luck he’d be toned down, nervous for his first year. He just hoped he was the first to arrive.

Bucky’s hand shook a little when trying to jam the key in the lock and missed the first time.  

The door squeaked open and hit the back wall with a bang.

Well, at least it was empty.

The doorway was tucked relatively in the corner of the room, with the sun shining through four small windows all squished against each other. Only two of them were able to be opened. Bucky noticed the two desks underneath the windows, complete with a rickety chair and a simple black work lamp. The desk itself was a darker colour, but he noted they were made of metal and not wood.

They were pressed with about two inches of room between the side of the desk and the short headboard of the bed.

Bucky visibly cringed at the look of the worn mattress. He was very glad his Ma made him purchase a mattress cover. He pointedly avoided thinking about sharing bacteria.

There were shelves carved into the wall of the room, more wide than they were tall, but still a good place to put his books and phone nonetheless.

Two dressers that came up to Bucky’s rib cage covered the wall directly across from the door he was currently still standing, and the end of the further bed.

Bucky almost had half a mind to wait for his roommate, if only to ask him which bed he wanted, but decided against it – playing the rank card sometimes had its privileges.

Bucky slowly paced inside the room, kicking the door almost to a close but keeping an inch open, as not to scare the incoming roommate.

He dropped his duffle bag and backpack on his claimed sleeping quarters, lifting the suitcase and unzipping it on top of the desk. The first thing he brought out was his bedding, the fitted and top sheet folded in neat squares on top of the comforter. He only brought one pillow with him, but he might have to go back and get at least one more, if only for his own comfort.

Bucky dully remembered reading somewhere (probably buzzfeed) that people with more pillows on their bed were more depressed and he chuckled to himself.

 

He was half way through emptying his suitcase into the drawers, and half jumped out of his skin when the door slammed open against the wall behind him.

A relatively small kid stood in the doorway. His shoulders were kind of small but set wide and looked strong. He looked to be a few inches shorter than Bucky. He was wearing a blue hoodie underneath a worn out black bomber and faded jeans with generic white earbuds coming from the split in the middle of the collar of his sweater.

The boy took in Bucky’s expression and quickly yanked his headphones from his ears.

“Oh shit man, I’m so sorry- I mean, I didn’t mean to kick it that hard- I just-“

Bucky laughed.

“It’s okay dude, don’t worry, I’m not gonna eat you.”

An expression crossed the kid’s face that very well could have been fear, like he hadn’t even thought of the possibility.

“Are you Peter?”

Hoodie kid let out an exasperated sigh and smiled slightly.

“Yeah. James right?”

Bucky nodded and offered his hand.

Peter instantly dropped the duffle bag hanging at his side and reached across the threshold.

Peter looked relieved – probably because he was worried that Bucky was an asshole. Because, let’s face it, he kind of looks like a douche on good days and a hobo at the worst. He decided to grow his hair out a little bit after high school, and it stuck because it was just _so_ much easier to keep his hair out of the way for training. But, he never really was partial to shaving. That’s all to Bucky being a lazy kid.

“You can call me Bucky. Only my Ma calls me James, and really, that’s only when she’s angry.” Bucky offered a smile.

Peter chuckled, gripping his side.

“Noted.” Peter nodded, stepping forward to dump the two previously abandoned duffle bags on the unoccupied bed.

The kid turned and looked at Bucky, proceeding to put away a stack of t-shirts.

“Uh, are you sure you want that one? I- I mean not that I don’t like the other one- they’re both the same anyway, but like if you wanted to switch for convenience o-or whatever, you can do what-“

“Are you always this nervous?”

Peter gaped for a second before remembering how to work his jaw.

“Uh, yeah pretty much, my aunt says I could probably work on my people skills?”

Bucky smiled.

“S’okay. Me too, if I’m honest.”

“S-sorry, I’m just like, really nervous because it’s my first year, and like, I don’t even know where anything is and I was really nervous about having a roommate because I’m an only child and I only live with my aunt – oh god, I’m rambling, I’m sorry, I’ll just-“

Bucky threw his head back and rumbled with a laugh from his gut when Peter slapped his own hand over his mouth.

“Pete, s’okay. You’ll be fine. Everyone else here is in the same boat. I mean, I’m supposed to meet with my coach later today and I don’t even know which direction the varsity offices are in.”

Peter nodded, as if he wasn’t allowing himself to speak.

“I’m assumin’ you’re doing a sport too, since you’re in this dorm.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m here on scholarship for gymnastics – I know, I know  - it’s gay, I’ve heard it all.”

Bucky had to grip the dresser to keep from falling over.

“Wh-what?”

Bucky just laughed harder for a second before trying to catch his breath.

Somethin’ about the way this kid talked got to him.

“Pete, I’m here for gymnastics too. I mean it’d make sense they’d put all the gymnasts together right? There’s only what, max six people on a team?”

Peter shook his head to himself.

“Dude, yeah, I’m just so dumb-“

“Nah, you’re all right man, s’long as you don’t snore we’ll be good.” He smiled fondly at Peter.

Peter smiled back,

“Can’t promise nothin’.”

 

-

In the process of unpacking, Bucky learned that Peter was from Queens, and lived with his aunt May in a small apartment and wants to go into robotics. He shared his own interest in robotics and bioengineering with Peter, even if he wasn’t exactly sure entirely what he wanted to major in yet, but, he still had lots of time to declare, despite the growing amount of passive aggressive emails in his inbox.

When Bucky was finished moving his things around, he quickly downloaded the school map attached to one of the many emails he had ignored.

Classes didn’t start until tomorrow, and finding classrooms was gonna be a whole other ball game, but for now, he figured basics were best; dorm, food, gym. Probably bathroom too, but that’s just gotta be down the hall somewhere. He almost dreaded needing to find it. As if growing up in locker rooms weren’t bad enough, now he’s got a communal bathroom to share with a whole floor of other sweaty, disgusting varsity guys. Needless to say, he wasn’t quite looking forward to it.

Apparently, the varsity offices were above his training gym. In all, there was four coaches, one head director and one assistant director. He didn’t have the slightest clue as to what they looked like, but from what his print out provided him, there were two coaches to each division; one head coach and one assistant coach for each team.

He assumed the rest would be explained and introduced at the scheduled meeting, also heavily labelled and bolded that it was mandatory.

So, Bucky now had about two hours to kill before he needed to somehow make his way to the training building and offices that he had absolutely no idea which direction they were in. _Thank the lord for portable technology._

Food first. The important stuff.

_Oh wait, I need to go pick up my student card for that. Shit, more people to talk to._

Squinting to look at the tiny labelled buildings on his phone screen, Bucky managed to make his way through hordes of parents saying mushy goodbyes, and into the student union building.

Following the many, many giant signs proclaiming student card pick up, he rounded the corner to a line up that was give or take nine feet long.

_You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me._

“Well, either this, or don’t eat Barnes, your choice.” Bucky muttered to himself.

 

-

 

An hour and a half later, Bucky avoided clumps of kids, clutching a still-warm printed student card with his picture on the front, in all his sloppy hair and unshaved glory.  

He swiped a protein bar and a powerade from a small café on the way to the gym, giving a smile to the nice girl at the register.

 

Bucky knew he was close to the building when he could smell the tell-tale salty but stale mix of sweat and chalk in the air. The two front doors were propped open with stoppers, revealing a calmly decorated lobby on the inside. Upon entering, Bucky realized there was also a front desk, so to speak. A tall woman with a dark-haired bun was sitting behind it.  Bucky hesitantly stepped closer.

“Hi there, what can I do for you?” She spoke calmly, even tone and bearing a smile that almost didn’t reach her eyes until Bucky’s hesitation was visible.

“Uh, hi, I’m here for the varsity meeting?”

“Of course, what’s your name?”

Bucky leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter at chest level.

“Barnes.”

“Ah yes, I was at your try-out. Don’t tell anyone I said this-“ She slyly looked over her shoulder for another’s presence.

“but I think you’re probably the most promising we’re going to have. Wouldn’t be surprised if Fury decided to stick you right in the roster instead of an alternate.”

Bucky avoided her eyes, turning his head to the floor to block a full faced blush.

It definitely wouldn’t be the first time someone has said that to Bucky. He used to get it all the time as a kid. Especially the scouts that scoured meets and competitions, they always had something to say. That was until he always had to firmly insist he was staying in Brooklyn. Not that his family could afford to let him go elsewhere.

“Maria, you makin’ the freshmen blush already? Damn girl, you’re as relentless as Nat.”

Bucky heard before he saw the man behind him. He looked almost like he could be a coach, if not for the walkie on his belt. Security guard maybe?

“Watch it Sam, I’ll tell her you said that.” Maria grinned.

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Also, he’s not technically a freshman either.”

“Oh?”

Sam put his hands the same as Bucky and leaned forward on the counter. Bucky watched a dark eyebrow raise in curiosity.

Bucky managed to stutter out.

“Y-yeah. Second year.”

Sam nodded.

“You must’a had promise, they usually don’t let anyone start in varsity if you didn’t come from first year.”

“I guess so.” Bucky smiled.

Mock security dude extended his hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky accepted, and only then noticed rough patches at the beds of his fingers.

“Sam Wilson.”

“Bucky Barnes.” Bucky dropped his hand, but added,

“Did you do gym? We’ve got matching callouses. Even if mine are newer.”

Bucky glanced down at his open palm and back up to Sam, a grin spread across his cheeks.

“Yeah man, trained through to college, never went further than that though. That’s some attention to detail there, Barnes.”

Bucky shrugged and Sam grinned again.

“Well, I can give you a few tips on how to make them heal faster if ya’d like.”

Sam continued when Bucky raised a brow in question.

“I’m the gym’s medic.”

“Don’t forget night guard.” Maria chimed in with a matching grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Night guard too I guess.”

“Night guard?” Bucky questioned. There really shouldn’t be a reason anyone tried to break into a gymnastics centre other than maybe some drunk kids tryin’ to play on the tramps. Even then, he’s sure the school could afford some more glass for the doors – and that’s if it’s not already reinforced glass.

Sam continued. “Yeah, the varsity kids on the roster get access keys to come train in their down time if they choose. Gym’s open ‘till 2 AM s’long as I’m here. But who the hell is gonna want to spend more time training – s’empty more often than not and I end up bored outta my face.”

“Don’t say that to Fury, Sam, he’ll make you clean it again.”

Sam waved a hand at her.

Sam clapped Bucky’s back and curtly waved goodbye, making his was to what he assumed was the gym entrance.

“If you want to head upstairs, there’s a meeting room up there that some of the others are already in.”

“Thank you.” Bucky replied and Maria nodded, gesturing towards a door behind him that could only be the stairwell.

Bucky reached a hand to open the heavy door, and could hear laughs floating down the stairs. He started up the small two flights and could hear the voices more clearly.

“Dude, dude, I could do way better than that,” definitely a guy’s voice. Slightly raspy, sounded very egotistical if it was anything to go by.

“I’d like to see you try, Quill. Ain’t nobody better than _my_ aim.” Another guy.

A quiet thunk echoed, and a round of boos and laughs followed.

Bucky rounded the corner, scanning the wall further from him. There were four doors to the left hall and one on the right. The very end door, which was open and laughs flowing out, is what he assumed to be the meeting room. There weren’t any markings on the doors other than the lone one to the right, which was cleanly labeled; Nick Fury, Gym Director. Bucky made a mental note to avoid that door.

Peering inside the meeting room, four heads turned to meet his.

In the middle of the room was an oval table, as expected of a business-class room. Sitting down, there was a very beautiful girl with smooth auburn hair; she had a round face and full lips. Beside her was a boy that had the same facial features, except his hair was bleached a horrible platinum blonde, with one-inch roots and a scruffy face to almost rival Bucky’s. There were two boys standing, mid throw of a crumpled paper into the recycling bin beside the doorway Bucky was currently standing in. The taller kid had scruffy dirty blonde hair, but now that he shifted, he could definitely see some red hidden in between strands. The shorter of the two had light brown hair neatly gelled into a point, his hair not so long on the top to make it dramatic.

Bucky paused and pretended not to feel the blush mixed with dread crawling up his chest.

“Um. Hi.”

The redhead was the first to speak, a surprisingly thick accent followed her tongue.

“You don’t look like a first year. Fury told us there was only one freshman for the male team joining us this year, which means that you’re the prodigy child from tryouts.”

_Oh good._

“Don’t be rude, Wanda.” The fake-blond boy beside her sniped, wearing a grin.

Redhead rolled her eyes and sighed.

Scruffy red-blond kid smiled and moved towards him. He offered his hand and when Bucky took it, he pulled him forward and half patted, half slapped Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey man, what’s up? I’m Peter, everyone calls me Quill. That’s Clint, and mister and misses brooding twins over there are Wanda and Pietro.”

“Bucky,” He offered.

Clint interrupted when Peter was about to open his mouth. “Wait! Bucky? Bucky Barnes? Holy shit man, I didn’t know you stayed with gym, holy shit!”

Bucky stumbled over his thoughts for a second, but when it came back to him, it was like a landslide he witnessed once on the local news station. He remembered Clint. They used to have sleepovers and prank the girls team at his old gym when they were little. He was one of the only other boys who was nice to Bucky.

“I totally thought you would have left after I did, what with Rumlow starting. Like shit man, he was awful.”

Clint never liked his ex-coach. Brock Rumlow had a way with athletes that was break or be broken. Bucky absent-mindedly rubbed his left shoulder and made a mental note to remember to do his stretches. Clint’s mom was more easily persuaded than his own Ma. He told his Ma about when Rumlow first took over the gym, how none of the other parents were too comfortable with him, and how he spoke to the classes when the parents left or were too enraptured with their own adult gossiping to care about the kids.

“Yeah, I dunno. I didn’t really have a choice.”

Clint cringed slightly.

“Shit, I’m sorry man. But, obviously you were doing the breaking because you’re here in one piece.” Clint followed with a lighthearted laugh and he’s sure the rest of them filled the gap in their minds.

Bucky moved into the room and took at seat at the end of the table, clapping Clint on the way.

Before anyone could ask him any more questions, two more college-aged kids crossed the doorway.

A dark-skinned girl on the left with long wavy hair, dyed a perfect hot pink on the ends, and another boy on the right, wearing all black dark enough to match the tight curls on his head.

Clint took a seat next to Bucky, apparently having appointed himself the chauffeur.

“Pink girl is Gamora, Quill’s got a huge crush on her,” Clint whispered.

“Emo edge boy is T’challa. There’s one more second year girl coming, Kate, she’s on the girls’ team too.”

Bucky nodded, watching Clint wave his hands about while explaining.

Bucky remembered being confused by his hearing aids when he first met him. Clint still talked with his hands back then, and some things obviously don’t change. He told Bucky that ASL was his first language, and that it’s more muscle memory than anything now.

Bucky would deny that his eyes lit up a small amount when he saw his roommate walk in the door.

Peter was even more stunted than himself, and apparently wasn’t very good at hiding his blush.

“See Wanda? There’s your freshman.” Quill grinned and everyone laughed, but Bucky just offered Peter a sympathetic smile.

Peter sat on Bucky’s other side and he could feel himself relax some tension in his shoulders.

A few beats later, two girls walked in, side by side, and if it weren’t for the bored expression on the one girl’s face, Bucky would have assumed they knew each other. The girl on the right side was wearing a purple headband to push back dark brown hair and waved at Clint when she walked through the door. The second girl had unruly curly hair, tied back in a low, loose pony, the sides slipping out and framing the tanned skin on her round face.

Bucky saw Peter wave out of the corner of his eye, and curly girl half nodded in his direction.

Bucky turned to Peter.

“You know her?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, we were on our high school team together. Her name’s Michelle, but she likes MJ.”

Bucky nodded again and an uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

Quill looked around at everyone, grinned and inhaled, preparing to say something when a deep (and if Bucky was admitting to himself) intimidating voice interrupted.

“No, Quill. I’m not listenin’ to your dumbass comments all season again.”

Quill visibly deflated.

“Aw, coach, but it was a good one!”

“I don’t care. Now you’re gonna sit there, and you’re gonna shut up while your coaches are talking.”

A very tall, very intimidating man entered the room, and the first thing Bucky noticed was the eyepatch covering his left eye. Bucky vaguely wondered if it was a gym-related accident. He’s definitely heard of worse things happening than a missing or injured eye. His mind flashed back to an abandoned sports injury book he knew was sitting on his shelf at home.

Eyepatch man paused to circle himself and look at everyone in the room. His gaze lingered on Bucky just a second too long for him to be too comfortable.

“Ladies, gentlemen. For those of you who _don’t_ know, I am director Nick Fury. I’m the one responsible for your injuries, so please, do _not_ make me look bad.” Fury eyed Quill with a fire behind him.

“I am also responsible for organizing everything you do, and where you are placed and with whom. And, yes, that can change at any moment, so I repeat, do not make me look bad, and do not piss me off.”

Bucky didn’t consider himself one to back down very easily. He got into a decent amount of fights as a teenager. He hadn’t run from a fight yet, but he’s sure if he did do anything to piss off the director, it would be the end of his varsity career.

“Warming them up, are you, Nick?” A soft English-accented voice rang through the room and Fury moved to the side to let a small woman with the softest looking brown curls he’d ever seen pass him.

The lipstick she had on was so rich that rubies would envy. There were more bodies hovering behind her, what Bucky assumed to be the other coaches. He noticed Maria from the front pass through and take a spot beside Fury. A flaming redhead with pin-piercing eyes was next. An older man, with a short stature and light grey hairs dusting the sides of his head was ginning at the woman in front of him.

Bucky all but peed himself when a literal Greek God walked in after.

He was wearing a tight royal blue crewneck, hugging every single muscle and tendon like it might have well as been painted on his ridiculously ratioed torso. His golden blond hair was just on the long side of short and gelled perfectly neat against his head. He was also adorning a beard, but nothing near what Bucky could grow. It was meticulously trimmed and kept, not a single hair out of place and Bucky wanted nothing more than to rub his face on it. From what he could see, Bucky also wanted to lick a long stripe up the dip and curve of his abs, and definitely some other places, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pop a boner like a 14-year-old in the middle of his first meeting for his varsity team. Bucky was very much struggling. Bucky’s mind went very much south very quickly along with his eyes, seeing jogging pants hang off of the Adonis’s hips and wondering just exactly how far he could fit his engorged cock down his throat. Bucky Barnes was nothing if not over-the-top.

Bucky’s eyes trailed back up (slowly might he add) and realized Adonis’s eyes locked with his own. His stomach dropped and he could feel a full body blush creeping its way up his torso.

He very elegantly choked on his own saliva, turning his head into his elbow to cough. He felt Clint’s hand slapping his back, and caught Bucky’s eyes with his own and damn near laughed in his face.

“Shut up, Barton-“ He managed to spit out before coughing again. He quickly remembered the bottle of sports drink he was carrying, and, with shaking hands, unscrewed the lid to take a gulp.

“I didn’t say nuthin’ man.” Clint whispered back.

When Bucky was settled, he turned his head back to the elegant woman standing at the front of the room, making sure this time to avoid Adonis’s very being.

“Well, three new faces is better than none. For the new three, I’ll introduce everyone. Though I see Director Fury has already made an appearance. I am Coach Carter. This is Coach Natasha Romanov,” she gestured to her right.

“She and I are the head and assistant coaches of the ladies’ team, respectively. And for the boys’ side, this is assistant Coach Tony Stark, and head Coach Steve Rogers.”

Coach Stark looked like he had been visibly inflated, chest puffing out and everything. Though, the name sounded familiar to Bucky, he’s almost positive his name was on his robotics and bioengineering class syllabi.

Bucky was still ignoring Coach Rogers, though he could see him lean casually against the doorframe.

_Fuck this guy._

“You probably saw her when coming in, but Maria Hill is the Assistant Director as well.”

“Correction, Peggy, don’t you mean Fury’s errand boy?” Coach Stark offered and smirked back when Coach Carter gave a small eye roll.

“Errand girl, actually.” Maria laughed back.

Everyone besides himself and Peter laughed. They looked at each other expectantly. They weren’t sure if they were too comfortable with the amount of intimidating waves Coach Carter and Director Fury were emitting.

Fury interrupted.

“Really, the only other reason you’re here besides introductions, is so I can give you the placements. After much debate with all of the coaches, I have decided these make-ups will be the most beneficial to everyone.”

The Director pulled a neatly folded paper out of his pocket.

“The women’s team is pretty obvious; Wanda, Gamora, Kate, and now Michelle-“

“MJ.”

Everyone turned their heads to MJ slouching in her seat. Bucky almost cringed.

“What?”

“I go by MJ.”

Fury sighed.

“Alright. You four are in the only four placement spots, no alternates, so for the love of God, don’t tear anything.”

The three second years nodded and MJ shrugged. What a time they’ll have with her.

“And for the men’s team, main placements will be: Clint, Peter Quill, Peter Parker, and James. Alternates Pietro and T’challa.”

Pietro didn’t look the slightest big phased by being knocked out of his rank by a first year. He just sank further into his seat, even more relaxed than before. T’challa on the other hand, looked like he was going to leap from his seat and wrap his slender fingers around Bucky’s throat.

“I’m not going to ask you if you are okay with that, because you really do not have a choice.”

When Fury’s eyes fell to Bucky, he nodded in agreement. As if he had a choice to do that either.

T’challa didn’t nod. He continued to, what Bucky could only assume was trying to pull a Darth Vader and strangle him from the inside.

Fury reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small stack of shiny purple cards that looked thicker than the material his student card was made of.

He passed them to Wanda sitting at the end, and motioned for her to pass them around.

“These are your gym access cards for the members on the roster. You’re allowed to come train in your own time if you’d like. You already have your mandated schedules. Unfortunately, because the board didn’t think it important enough for alternates to be exercised too, they only agreed to give enough to cover rostered members. My suggestion is to make friends. Technically the gym opens tonight, so if you wanna be a goody-two-shoes and jump the gun before everyone else, be my guest. Mr. Wilson is always here to pick up your sorry asses.”

Bucky was handed a diminishing stack of cards and took one for himself. The front was labeled _VARSITY ACCESS_ in blocked letters, and upon flipping it, the back had a barcode, QR code, magnetic stripe, and said _NYU Varsity Gymnastics Team_ near the bottom.

When Bucky looked up, he could have sworn he saw a glint of teeth from Coach Rogers.

“Alright, that’s all I got. Get your asses outta my gym and go buy your expensive-ass textbooks. I expect to see you all here tomorrow.”

They all nodded and replied, “Yes coach.” in unpracticed unison.

Chatter burst out as soon as the coaches retreated. Bucky glanced at Peter and he shrugged. Well, as Fury said; off to waste his hard-earned money on textbooks.

 

-

 

Peter and Bucky stood side by side, staring at the small stack they had both accumulated. They both decided it would be in the best interest of their wallets for them to share a textbook for Coach Stark’s robotics class since finding out they were both enrolled in the same one.

“Okay, okay fuck, this is gonna hurt. What’s yours?”

Bucky groaned and wiped at his face. “You first.”

Peter sighed. “It’s gonna be like, over $600.”

Bucky could feel an ulcer forming in his gut. He almost wept, right there, in the middle of the bookstore.

“Fuuuuuuuck.”

“What’s yours man?”

“Like, at least $550.”

They both groaned again and scooped up the stacks in their arms, heading towards the long lineup at the front register. Peter agreed to add the shared book to his stack, so Bucky handed him a few extra bills.

“Go ahead of me, I’ll see you back at the room, I’m gonna make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Alright, later man.”

Bucky patted Peter on the back on his way past him.

Despite the growing pain in his stomach and his wallet, Bucky generally liked bookstores. At the moment, the campus bookstore was a little crowded, what with everyone needing their books, but they were usually pretty calm places. He liked how everyone in bookstores had a nonverbal unity to not speak to one another unless absolutely necessary. Bucky noted the small café with seating space on the second floor. He’ll have to snoop around to find the best study spot.

In his star-gazing, Bucky didn’t realize the waist high stack of textbooks on promotion, and hip checked the stack, sending a handful of shrink-wrapped books to the ground.

“Sonuvabitch.” He muttered.

Bucky kneeled, setting down his own stack in favor of picking up the ones he _really_ didn’t want to pay for if he damaged.

“Like some help?” a voice as smooth as his Ma’s homemade gravy felt like it was pouring itself down his spine. No teenage hitches, no hiccups or stutters.

Bucky looked up through a clump of hair that had fallen from behind his ear.

_Oh shit, it’s Adonis. No – wait he has a name, Bucky, you dumb, dick-thirsty fuck._

“Uh, sure.”

_Basking in all your smooth glory here, Barnes._

The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Becca’s but he really didn’t want to inspect that thought close enough to analyze what that possibly could have meant.

“I really hope you’re not this clumsy in the gym, James, or Fury’s gonna have you cleanin’ the chalk bins.”

Bucky’s cheeks were aflame.

“Well, I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?” He made a very quick decision that if he was gonna act like he was 15 again, he might as well be a little shit about it, much to his Ma’s dismay.

“That, I suppose you have.” Coach Rogers grinned back.

“What are you doin’ in the bookstore? S’not like you’ve gotta do any reading.”

Adonis smiled.

“I do, actually. Apparently, I’ve been appointed to teach one of the athletic physiology classes; the original professor fell ill.”

_Who even says ‘fell ill’ anymore? Did this man literally fall from the sky?_

“That’s quite the stack, James. I hope you make use of them.”

“Bucky.” He smiled.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah. S’what everyone calls me.”

“That’s a pretty unusual nickname. It suits you though. How’d you get Bucky from James?”

_Fuckin’ Becca._

“It’s from my middle name, Buchanan. It was my Ma’s nickname for me and then my little sister went around spreadin’ it as soon as she was school age and it stuck.”

Bucky watched the corner of his coach’s mouth upturn. He’d been actively avoiding him until now, and he’s almost glad he did because he’s sure Rogers could beat someone to death with the blue of his eyes.

Coach Rogers glanced at the stack in his hand, and nodded at it with the turn of his head.

“That’s gotta be a pretty dent, huh?”

Bucky winced, again.

“Yeah, there would have been one more, but I’m sharin’ it with my roommate since we’re in the same class.”

“Efficient.”

Bucky nodded.

He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, but he still knew he didn’t want the conversation to end, so, like an asshole, he just kept talking.

“It’s actually Coach Stark’s class,”

“You’re doing robotics?”

He sheepishly grinned.

“Yeah. Probably gonna end up in or near bioengineering or biorobotics.” With the new advancements in technology, thanks to Stark might he add, and with some luck and hard studying, he’ll be able to help contribute to the injured athletes and veterans of the world. Everyone knew that Stark’s prosthetics were top of the line – and it was common knowledge, now, that after coming across an athlete listed for their program that had lost an arm in a freak accident did they consider expanding beyond that of the world of sports.  

Bucky remembered watching the press conference while doing algebra homework, sometime in the middle of high school.

“That’s awesome, Bucky. Did you have an injury, or…?”

Bucky tried not to let his eyes go wide at the thought.

He wanted to reach for his shoulder, but stopped himself.

“Uh… No. I’ve just had people, growing up in a gym, that I’ve known who weren’t able to do what they wanted to, or weren’t able to go back to it the way they did before because of injuries, and I just kinda wanted to help them, yenno? I mean, I was full and able and it was kinda heartbreaking to watch them watch me do it. I woulda gave ‘em my ability if they wanted it.”

The coach’s face softened.

“Bucky, that really is amazing. That’s probably the most selfless thing I’ve heard an athlete say. Especially in your position.”

Bucky pointedly didn’t add that he had to bear witness to more than a few injuries, thanks to Rumlow’s training.

“Thanks, Coach.”

“Steve. Please call me Steve. Peg – I mean, coach Carter – insists on her formalities, but I’ve never been comfortable with it. Just Steve is fine.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go pay for these while I cry, so I’ll see you at the gym later, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah, definitely. Good luck with the, uh, crying I guess.”

They both laughed.

“Bye Bucky.”

Bucky loved the way his name sounded coming from Steve’s lips. He could now imagine him saying it in more ways than one, now that he knew what his voice sounded like. And oh, would he make good use of his imagination for the days to come.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol can you tell I miss gymnastics yet 
> 
> i'm sorry this took literally forever for me to do, I had issues in my personal life (hospital visits and shit) and I just kind of started to grasp everything again and I'm trying to make myself write more!
> 
> added things this chapter: fun queerplatonic friendships bc why tf not, daddy kink (minor), daddy kink discussion
> 
> also I'm sorry it's shorter than the first but it's what I have saved from the last time I continued and I don't wanna leave y'all hanging for too long

The communal bathrooms really were as bad as he was expecting. Not like it was massively dirty, or overly grimy, but really, the idea of sharing a shower that someone has just previously jacked off in wasn’t very appealing at all. Bucky’s also sure he heard more than a few orgasms while he was taking his own shower, and he’s not gonna lie, it was just a little more revolting than he had previously thought. He’d get his own chance. 

Eventually.

 

Maybe.

 

-

He figured he’d at least try to get to sleep a little bit early; but when everything was unpacked, Bucky and Peter tucked under the covers, his mattress felt as solid as a rock. Bucky hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the tell-tale grime of chalk, sweat, and blood moving in between his fingers, the rug burn on his knees or the bite of the tramp on his thighs. 

He hadn’t been able to properly enjoy the sport so long as Rumlow’s voice was behind him, telling him to push harder, go faster, be stronger. There was never a moment of being. 

The anxiety of starting new classes in the morning didn’t help in the slightest either. Just more people to be around, and that in itself was a task for Bucky. 

Bucky threw his sheets off of himself as quietly as he could. He wasn’t entirely sure how light of a sleeper Peter was yet. 

He was already adorned in sweats, so Bucky grabbed the first t-shirt in the top of his drawer and shrugged it down his shoulders. The nights were still warm enough that he could get away with forgoing a jacket. 

He could have grabbed a leo, but he decided against it. Shorts and a tee shirt would have to do at the moment. Not to mention he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to feel it riding up his ass when he’s trying to  _ enjoy _ the moment. 

 

Bucky jogged down to the gym for a minor warm up, rotated his shoulders and neck a few times as well. He wasn’t planning on hitting much more than the trampoline. Maybe the tumbling track if he was feeling adventurous. 

Sliding the shiny card from his pocket, Bucky tapped it against the access panel, hearing a loud click sound through the air, followed by an affirming beep.

He’d never actually got to explore the gym, so he was just gonna hope that none of the alarms went off in his attempt to find the locker room. 

 

There was only one door directly ahead that didn’t lead to the stairwell that had been previously visited. Squaring his hips, Bucky pushed the heavy door forward, sighing when a gust of pocketed air fanned his face. 

The gym was a very much open concept. He’d seen a lot of gyms in his competitions and meets, but none like this; one that was predestined to be a gymnastics training centre, not from the tiny little makeshift shit he was so used to. The trampolines didn’t even need to be set on the floor, not when there were sunken holes into the concrete foundation. The floors were crisp and new, the foam pits untouched by sweaty toddler hands. It was entirely silent, and Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever known a peace like this. 

“Yo, Barnes!”

A shout from the far-right corner of the gym shook him out of his trance. 

“Hey Sam.”

Sam stepped down from two concrete steps leading up to a booth surrounded by reinforced glass. Unless drawn attention to, Bucky wouldn’t have noticed it was there. He assumed it was something like a security guard’s hub. 

“You try’na impress the coaches Barnes?”

Bucky smiled fondly at him.

“Nah, I think I’ve already done that.”

“You cocky son-of-a-bitch.” Sam grinned.

“Hey, you watch what you say about my Ma, Wilson.”

Sam chuckled and playfully punched his shoulder. He paused to do a once-over on Bucky.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Sam’s eyes softened.

Bucky nodded, but said nothing.

“Alright man, I ain’t gonna stop ya; just don’t try and kill yourself, I’m not cleanin’ up your blood.”

“No promises.” Bucky eyed his scarred palms.

Sam nodded to two doors behind him.

“Change Rooms though there. Knock yourself out.”

He smiled once more and started back towards his booth as Bucky turned and pushed open the heavy metal door.

 

The actual change room was really nice, even if it threw him for a loop at first. He was greeted by a set of four gray metal stalls on the right and two small sinks on the left. It took him more than an embarrassing second to notice the door six feet in front of him with an imprinted image of a showerhead on it. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, and the second door opened to an enormous changing space, two rows of aluminum benches in the middle, to the far-right wall a row of lockers, and at the very back and left walls were rows of enclosed showers, shielded by the same type of metal doors that were on the bathroom stalls. 

Bucky didn’t quite care for a locker at the moment, and he’s pretty sure his assigned lock was still sitting on the top of his desk anyway. He dropped his duffle bag down on the bench with an echoing  _ thud.  _

He didn’t really want to bother to do any kind of wrap on his hands or otherwise, so he dropped his sweats, made sure to slide on a pair of compression shorts before his loose trainers (poor Sam didn’t deserve to see anything too incriminating so early) and left his tight formed t-shirt. The edges of black KT tape poked out from the left sleeve of his tee that he’s sure it was time to change, but was otherwise preoccupied in getting the hell out of the shared showers as fast as he possibly could without trying to rip sticky tape off of his arm hair. 

Upon stepping out of the changeroom, the only thing to be heard was the quiet hum of the air con. It almost felt like the wasn’t allowed to be here; like he was breaking all forms of rules. It was almost reminiscent of an airport at 3 AM. An untouched corner of the world that nobody particularly wanted to be in. And yet, Bucky was here. He’s sure he’s moved passed asking himself what kind of masochist wanted this. That question was answered when he tore his ass out of his dorm room at 11 PM to go train with an 8 AM lecture the next morning. 

 

The soft padding of a sprung floor under Bucky’s toes wasn’t something he thought he missed, alas, here he was, staring at the dip in the blue carpet with the weight of his body beneath his soles. Sam was probably having a good time staring at him.

 

“Did ya forget how to stretch there, Barnes?”

Bucky snapped his head up.

“Uh- no. Sorry.”

Sam paused before stepping out of his hiding spot.

“It’s weird isn’t it? Bein’ back after you thought you’d left.”

Bucky nodded in acknowledgment but continued to stare at his toes. 

“I was the same, I guess,” Sam continued. “in the beginning of my third year I did somethin’ to my back. Fucked a muscle, or tendon – something. They didn’t even know what I did, other than that it was injured. Thought I’d never see that ugly ass blue mat again. But, they gave me some meds, and therapy was nothin’ to scoff at either. I was alright by the beginning of my fourth, just to give it one last Fuck You before I retired.”

“Did you place?”

Sam’s face lit up with a grin, 

“Silver at nationals. Bet you can only guess who was first.”

Bucky was genuinely confused, but interested nonetheless.

“Who?”

Sam threw him a lopsided grin.

“I’ll give you a hint. He looks crazy fucking ripped as if he’s still training even though he’s not, and I’m positive that your non-straight ass has already thought of him as Daddy material.”

Bucky could hear his jaw hit the floor. He couldn’t help himself but to start laughing hysterically. 

“Oh my fucking God, you did not just say ‘ _ Daddy Material _ ’ out loud to me, in a verbal conversation.”

“Am I right or am I right?”

Bucky grinned back.

“You’re not wrong.” He shifted his weight to the other foot while he talked.

“ ‘ _ My non-straight ass’  _ ?”

Sam laughed at himself. “Okay, I  _ know  _ I’m not wrong about that one. I’m  _ definitely  _ not getting straight vibes from you, Barnes.”

“I love how you just know my entire life, Sam. Please Enlighten me.”

Sam held his hands up, palms open, in mock surrender. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not straight either, and that’s how I knew,” Sam continued to chuckle. “Married though actually. I just don’t wear my ring to work, and also force of habit - yenno, as an ex-gymnast and all.”

Bucky nodded.

“Yeah you don’t really wanna be wearin’ rings around bars.” 

“Anyway, I know it’s probably none of my business, but, I’m gonna make it mine anyway, not only because Steve is one of my best friends, but being nosey is the most exciting thing about my job - and if you tell Fury a word of that you’ll be hanging by your ankles from the rings for a week.”

Bucky’s shoulders shook with another laugh, and he moved to mockingly zip his mouth closed, pointedly throwing away the key. 

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re good at reading people, Wilson?”

“Nah, I’m just too bored with myself now, I’ve gotta move on to others.”

Sam started back towards his little booth, calling out behind him.

“You know where to find me!”

 

Bucky started towards the middle of the mat, feet bouncing on the springs with every step.

_ Oh how I’ve missed this. _

He really didn’t even realize he missed it that much until the wafting smell of sweat hit his nose when he first opened the door. He was completely okay (or so he thought) with parting ways from the mat. He almost didn’t come back. After the competition with Rumlow, he didn’t think he could. He didn’t know if he could ever try and trust a coach again. Rumlow was just so set on getting the first place, he didn’t care what it did to him  _ or  _ his athletes. But, after he had a little time to heal and lick his wounds, his Ma pushed him, ever so gently, to perhaps make it to a tryout. 

So he did, for his Ma’s sake. He went to three separate tryouts for different schools, and got offered rides for all of them. And while going overseas or across country would have been cool, he did want to stay as local as he could, just in case his Ma and Becca needed him. He wasn’t even that far from them, and even tried to convince his Ma to just let him live at home while he studied and trained, but since it was a scholarship anyway, she won that argument. 

 

Bucky made sure to stretch his left shoulder better than the rest, while he sloppily went over a quick stretch and warm up for the rest of his upper and lower body. 

But he was gonna start on the tramp anyway, and didn’t intend to make his first official time back in the gym a full blown workout. Especially nearing midnight. 

Stepping onto the bouncy material, Bucky took a large breath. 

Starting with small jumps, Bucky swung his arms around in time with his motions to gain momentum. He wanted to keep it simple, but enough to tire him out just a little. 

He moved to fall backwards onto his ass, wrists tightly beside his hips, and legs glued and pointed. On his bounce back up, Bucky twisted himself up into a handstand, and swung back down to sitting on the opposite side. He repeated a few times until he felt his muscles getting a litter warmer, and then stopped himself in standing. 

From there on, Bucky tried a few tucks, a few layouts, and more maneuvering until he felt warmth in his muscles and calm starting to surround him.

When he was doing this, by himself and more importantly  _ for  _ himself, there was nothing more serene. He would never know a calm like he did when he was at the gym. All of the previous expectations, deadlines, pressures; when he was here, he didn’t have to worry about what he was going to do with his future, or how he’ll provide for himself or his family, or the deadline for an essay, or anything at all. His mind was just  _ blank  _ as he was flying through the air. He could maneuver and manage how  _ he  _ wanted to and not by the word of anyone else.  

Though, he can admit, making and managing himself could be absolutely exhausting. Everything from remembering to brush his teeth in the morning to taking notes in class to making his routines. There was probably a fine line in there somewhere that Bucky just hadn’t bothered or cared to look for. 

After his time on the trampoline, he moved back to the centre of the mat to wind down with some more stretches, and again, paying extra attention to his shoulder. 

He would have decided on a rinse off in the shower, but, as like many of the things he does, he didn’t think ahead and didn’t bring any towels. 

_ I guess staying stinky is definitely a way to get people to stay away from you. _

Whatever. The quiet hum of anxiety in his body about the next morning had been gently washed away, and now he just wanted to climb in his shitty twin sized bed and sleep. 

 

As he was walking back to his dorm, he caught a glimpse of a clock that read 1:30 AM. 

_ Oops. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, you can come yell at me on [tumblr](http://www.avatrs.tumblr.com) and let me know if you have any suggestions too

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always IMMENSELY appreciated, by all means, leave me a comment telling me what you think and if I should continue!!!
> 
> you can also send me asks and messages on [tumblr](http://avatrs.tumblr.com/ask) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ddyloki) or suggestions if you wanna see a certain kink or whatevs


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